


A Breath of Cold on Your Face

by Dreamwrote



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Almost kissing but not quite, F/M, Fluff, Frostbite, Gen, Winter fun, snowball fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamwrote/pseuds/Dreamwrote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commissioned during Taiyou Con 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Breath of Cold on Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> To daves-nakkodile on Tumblr!   
> I apologize for the lateness of your commission, but I hope it is up to par! Enjoy!

                Perhaps throwing the first snowball wasn’t the best idea. But hey, you’re Jack Frost, right? What else are you supposed to do besides create fun? And turning North’s usually orderly workshop into a snow fortress seemed pretty dang fun.

                “Duck!” you shout as North launches an armful of snowballs. The guardian of Christmas chuckles, a deep rumbling noise as the projectiles fly through the air, hitting the walls of your snow fort – expertly crafted, if you say so – with minimal damage. Even though you had given each of the Guardians a personal lesson in the crafting of a snowball, none of them seemed to catch onto the art.

                “Hey Tooth, c’mere,” you say, coaxing her from behind a section of the snow wall. She flits over with ease, a flash of bright color before she’s right in front of you. You blink. You’re not sure if you will ever get used to how nimble she is – but she’d kind of have to be, to sneak out children’s teeth from underneath their pillows while they sleep.

                “What is it Jack?” she asks, bubbly as ever.

                “Here’s the plan. While I distract the Kangaroo, you zip out and peg North with some of these babies,” you explain, twirling out a few perfect snowballs.  She picks up the snowballs with the delicacy of collecting her teeth and nods with excitement. “Ready, set, go!”

                You rush out from behind the snow fort, bare feet sliding on ice. Bunnymund has already anticipated your attack, so you get him from behind with a large drift. Grumbling, he picks his way out of the snow, large feet thumping against the ground in an attempt to dislodge the cold from his fur. Looking up, you see Tooth manage to get North in the belly with a snowball – not like it does much damage. A misshapen hunk of snow flies past your head. You raise an eyebrow at Bunnymund . . . and promptly dump a fine powder over him. He makes a vehement exclamation and begins to shake his long ears, the icy particles managing to get inside.

                Bunnymund wasn’t particularly good at snowball fights. You glance at Sandy, who has taken a passive role on the sidelines as referee for this round. He’s itching to play, to peg everyone with snowballs laced with sleep dust, but after everyone dropped onto the ground and took a nap for who knows how long, he was voted out for this game – to give everyone enough time to recover and wipe the sand from the corners of their eyes.

                Uh-oh, the Kangaroo was making a comeback, and from the determined look on his face, he wasn’t too happy about it. He takes a running start at you, then slides, using his big feet and strong hind legs as a snowplow. You barely escape the oncoming wave of white and use your momentum to flip behind the walls of your snow fort again. You had another plan – and it was a great plan, all you had to do was get Tooth and –

                A shriek rips through the air, though it’s more delighted than angry or scared. It appeared as though North had finally landed a hit on Tooth (more than an accomplishment, since it was almost impossible to touch her at her speed).  She pretends to swoon, losing altitude and heading back towards you and the safety of the fort walls.

                Still a little shocked by the coldness, she laughs, dropping down besides you. You turn to her, a joke on your lips, before seeing the glittering frost in her feathers. The delicate down surrounding her eyes were misted with the smallest crystals, the ice prisms emphasizing the greens and blues. Even her eyelashes were dusted with white.

                Involuntarily, your hand reaches out to smooth out the ruffled feathers on her brow. The large yellow feather in the middle of her forehead puffs out a little in surprise, but then relaxes flat against the rest of her plumage. Underneath the soft – oh, so very soft – down, warmth emanates from her body in direct contrast to yours. You can only imagine how biting the cold must be to her, and with a little reluctance, you draw your fingers back. “You’ve, er, got a little snow, um, there.”

                Tooth’s large eyes stare back at you. “Can you get it for me Jack?” You almost don’t want to remove the crystals from her feathers. They highlight her features, making them more sharp and defined – beautiful. Your heart thumps a loud rhythm against your breastbone. Trying to hide the slight trembling of your hand, you reach out again to cup her cheek. To her credit, she doesn’t shiver.

                Taking your thumb, you begin to wipe away the snow. Her feathers are already getting wet, melting the ice on her face. She’s warm. So, so warm. You lean in, exhaling at the same time she does. Steam rises up between both of your faces, delicate and wispy. Her heart, as fast as a hummingbird’s, generates enough heat in contrast to your own that it makes steam possible. What would it be like if you actually kissed her? When you broke apart for air, would a thicker, larger cloud of steam appear? Would the steam be hot or cold? Unbeknownst to you, your pale blue lips are only a fraction of an inch away from her pink ones.

                A split second away from contact, the wall you’re hiding behind collapses, thanks to the efforts of the opposing team, North with his burly arms and Bunnymund with his powerful hindquarters. With a creak, the barrier falls on top of you and Tooth, effectively ending any chance of kissing her. You almost feel disappointed, but more relieved than anything. The weight of the snow presses you into her before you break out of the destruction. You are thankful that you can’t blush.

                “I think we win, mate,” Bunny smirks, high-fiving North. Tooth flutters up beside you, rustling her feathers in an attempt to get the snow off of them.

                “You two are so going to get it in the next round!” she declares, before calling her swarm of Baby Tooths, armed with miniature snowballs. Where had she been hiding those? The army of Baby Tooths is relentless in their assault on the spirits of Christmas and Easter, and they flee for the safety of their ramshackle fortress. Tooth looks onward, a faint smile on her face. Swooping down, she gently holds the back of your head and presses her lips to your brow. Then she follows her workers, the faintest of pink in her cheeks. You sit stunned.

                The kiss on your forehead burns like fire, and for a second, you feel alive, human, again, before you follow her off for a snowball fight rematch.


End file.
